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[21 Dec 2006|12:19am] |
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mood |
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 frustrated |
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So since Tuesday, Chris' neighbor Betsey passed away. The funeral is on Friday and the viewing is tomorrow. It's not gonna be easy to go to a funeral after grammas, I'm pretty nervous about it. I don't know what I'm gonna wear either, because I don't really have anything with me because a lot of my nicer clothes are at Kassie's. I still have the stuff I wore to grammas, I think it's at jen's house. But I don't know what Chris' family is wearing and it's pretty dressy so I don't know if I want to wear that or not, not to mention I think my boobs have grown since then and they had to squish into that dress before anyway. *shrugs*
I work at the Walk in Closet. Think I forgot to mention that. I got swamped tonight, it was crazy.
I miss Jen. As much as I miss her I still get mad at her. Like tonight I was talking to her and she asked me if I ever got my stuff back from Michael and I was like yea and she totally acted all uppity about it, as if she doesn't have a whole shitload of my stuff, not to mention my parent's stuff. Whatever though I guess. I feel like I'm losing her, but I think I've felt that way for a long time anyway.
I have times when I like the way I look. ... sometimes... But for the most part I kind of hate myself. (the way I look anyway) And it's gotten a lot worse than it used to be too. I haven't really changed that much, but whenever I look in the mirror I just can't see what other people see. I get frustrated when Chris calls me pretty because I struggle so hard to actually believe him. But he says it so much I don't think he's lying. I just wish I could see what he sees. He says he's gonna work on it, and make me enjoy this summer. Ha. I hate summer. I always have. I wish him luck though, it'd be nice to not hate myself but I don't see how he's gonna go about that.
Patty and my mom came in to work tonight. they're always at each other's throats I swear. Mom bought Jesse clothes from work and gave me ten dollars. That I gave to Chris. Cuz I feel bad that he takes me to and from work all the time, and I think I owed it to him anyway. No, I know I did. But he found ten dollars in some pants at work that I kept and bought underwear with.. maybe it was a little dishonest... but maybe it was put there for me to buy underwear with? We'll never know..... but I've got underwear.. WOO!
I don't have the money to pay my phone bill. My grammas gonne write me a check though for it.. I hate doing that because I feel like my parents, but I don't think she sees it like that. I think she likes feeling needed after grandpa died. I miss her and I haven't calledher and when I called her tonight she was like " So, you're avoiding me because you have to ask me for help and you don't want to, right" She knows me all too well.
So all last week I skipped first hour and then I skipped the final this week. Mr. huskey teaches that class, I hate disappointing him. We had an assembly and Chris said he kept looking at me and I accidently made eye contact once. I don't have him next semester.. wait.. yea I do. Fuck. I'll deal with that later I guess.
I have Mr. Morrow for three hours in a row next semester. he informed me today he's going to make my life a living hell. I don't doubt it either. I like my schedule next semester.
Yea, so I walk into Personal Finance today and had a conversation with Kayla.. it went something like this..
K: Hey so are you still coming to the cookie bake?
(little men become alert)
C: When is it?
(funny, I'm pretty sure this whole thing was uh... MY idea)
K: Next Friday
C: No, I'll be out of town visiting Darrell and Craig
K: Aw, that sucks
(little men think.. yes Kayla... it really looks like you're devestated(I should have said that outloud))
C: Yep.
AHH!!!!! That pisses me off like no other. I don't even want to talk about it anymore thats how much it makes me mad.
Rargh. I'm officially stinky and I need to go take a shower, and it's late, and I'm tired.. so here I go.
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[03 Apr 2006|09:41pm] |
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mood |
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damn computer |
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I just had a huge journal typed and accidently deleted t. It fucking sucks.
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| teacher things |
[25 Oct 2005|12:29am] |
Below is a list of things I want to remember to do if I go through with being a teacher. Some of them may not make sense to someone else reading them, but that's ok, I know what I'm talking about. Also, to anyone who reads this, if you think of something you want to add, feel free.
I hate it when people yawn loudly in my class, have on syllabus or whatever that when people yawn obnoxiously I’ll shoot them or something
Ms. Duggan said to have something ready for kids when they come in, especially on the first day, she handed out cards and we had to match the cards to a desk the match was placed on
Maybe play a ‘name game’ on the first day, and do the rules on the second, vice versa, whatever, I hate being in a class where I don't know everyone's names, or when someone else doesn't know someone else's name in class, maybe revert back to it sometime during the semester and have a quiz on everyone's names for bonus or something
Have a ‘quote of the day on the board’, or on a separate dry erase board somewhere in class
A countdown to the next day off, Christmas, thanksgiving, last day of school, spring break, all of the above
Ms. Duggan uses different colored papers sometimes so that she can say “remember that thing we did on the (insert color here) paper? Well, get it out
On tests and such, first of all, never use scantrons or anything like that. And whenever they have to letter something, make them use all capital letters so I can tell them apart, and write C for correct (true) and I for incorrect (false)
Let students use an index card on tests with as much as they can fill up, remember to collect them or kids will just give them to each other to use
Have reward days once a month or on the last day of quarter where we watch a funny movie or talk about something interesting or something, also giving kids a chance to catch up
Accept late work.. sometimes life intervenes
A class pet?
Make them keep a binder, in which they must keep ALL papers I hand out
Have test retake days
On one of the first days of school have the words hypocritical and ignorant on the board, with dictionaryies on their desks to define those words. Ignorant because people use it the wrong way, and hypocritical because I’m hypocritical
Have a daily points system, but maybe have them not count if you’re absent or something..
Make them say "may I"
Remember how heavy books are and how much it sucks to take them home
Remember how much homework sucks
Have assignment sheets, so if need be students can work ahead
On the first day of films, ms. Gillespie had us write her a letter about ourselves with certain things we had to tell her, but remember to also write them a letter, not individually or anything, but one to put on the overhead, because I hate when teachers tell you to do something like that and don’t do it themselves, but don't give it back until the end of the year so they can reflect over it
On tests, or papers, when going over directions, randomly say ‘circle this word’ for five extra bonus points when a class isn’t paying attention or something (thanks Ms. Arnn)
that's all for now
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[23 Oct 2005|10:41pm] |
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mood |
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 sad |
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Gramma used to give me these old Regency Romance novels to read after she read them. I would read them, and then retell her parts of it to see if she remembered, and if she did, we would talk about it. I just looked down at a box full of those and realized I'll never be able to retell her a story again. I'll never be able to retell her a story again. I never get to ask her anything again. I can never just go next door and know she'll give me a hug even if shes mad at me. I miss her. So much. I feel so lost. I know I've said all these things before, but I still feel this way. I'm sick as a dog. I keep throwing up and my throat is killing me. I want a break from everything. My stupid father better give me the money I need for my application to go to Europe I think I'll slit his throat. Not really, I love him with all my heart, but I really wish he wasn't such a jerk sometimes. She'd left messages on the answering machine, and I had saved them, so I could remember her voice, and I just looked and someone erased them. Oh that makes me sad.
I'm talking to Amanda and she said her body starts to shake when she even thinks about her gramma not being around. And I said to make sure she knows how much she loves her.. this reminds me of the night before gramma died, Jen and I were at the hospital and we just could not be funny for anything.. when you look back on it it's like the foreshadowing of a movie or a book, we can always laugh and be funny when we're at the hospital, but this time, we just couldn't. I held her hand and made sure if she needed anything that the nurses brought it to her. Her hand was so cold. I made sure she had a bunch of blankets. She kept throwing up and right before she would she'd say "good-bye" to give me the que to go so that I wouldn't see because she didn't want me to see or throw up myself. Right before I left I kissed her on the forehead and I said I love you a million times so that she would say it back, and she finally did. That night I told her, like I have so many times that I would trade places with her if I could. And I meant that, with everythign I have, I would have. I would gladly let her have another life and give up mine. It's just who I am. She did so much for me. I miss her so much. I held her hand when she went. I was holding her hand. And the whole room got cold and the machine flatlined. I felt this thing.. go through my whole body and I just felt cold inside. I can't even begin to describe it. It was like inside I turned to ice but it burned the inside of my skin. The preist or preacher or whatever was there and he kept saying that prayer or whatever that they say in movies. Everyone was sobbing and I just stood there holding her hand with a few tears going down my face. I swear, it's like I'm in this terrible movie that never seems to get a happy ending. I know it will eventually, and that eventually all this won't hurt so much. But right now it hurts so bad. I wanna hug her one more time. I wanna ask her so many questions. I want to tell her I love her one more time. I want hear her voice. I miss her. I miss her so bad. I can't type anymore. That's all I'm letting out for now. I think I'm gonna go throw up again.
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| Lost. So very lost. |
[15 Oct 2005|05:22pm] |
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mood |
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sad |
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Everything reminded me of her today.. The white line on the side of the road. White castle. I went into House Springs Wal Mart and decided I’m not going to ever again. I miss her. I miss her something fierce. I feel lost and confused and don’t know what I’m going to do without her. And I’m not letting myself cry. I know I should, it would probably make me feel a little better. But I don’t want to. I don’t’ have the time to cry.
Cortney gave me a dress to wear for the dance. It’s black and has poka-dots underneath it. I wish gramma could see it. This sucks. What a great time for everything to hit me. I feel so .. lost. I don’t know. I don’t know how to describe it. I keep seeing her laying, feeling her die, the way her tongue suddenly stuck out of her mouth, the second I felt her go. Damn it. Why now? I feel lost. I know I’ve said that already, but I’m saying it again. I feel lost. And I don’t feel ok.
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[12 Oct 2005|01:39pm] |
Well the visitation went ok. Kayla and Jared came with Michael. They stayed for awhile, and when Kayla and Jared left, Michael stayed. She looked better I thought. Craig said "that doesn't look like gramma" and I felt like saying, uhm, yes it does you fucktard, you just haven't seen her in a really long time. Asshole I swear. I still haven't held Madalyn. I just don't feel like they want me to or something. I don't know. Anyway.. there were a lot of people at the visitation. Mom and dads friends, etc.
The funeral also went well I think. Juli didn't want to come in with the casket open, so we closed it before we started rather than after. This consisted of everyone in the little room starting from the back pew to the front came to the front and said goodbye to her. It was really sad. I wasn't going to go up because I didn't think I would be able to handle it.. but I did anyway.. and I didn't cry. Then everyone left, they closed the casket, and we all came back in. Then it started with a song, "Old Rugged Cross," which I sang shiny happy paris monkies to inside my head so I wouldn't hear the words, which were probably sad, then I read a eulogy that I wrote..
Seeing death as the end of life is like seeing the horizon as the end of the ocean.
I stand before you today to mourn the death of an amazing woman. Every one of us here today has our own memories of her, whether we remember her as a friend, a mother, a grandmother, or great grandmother. Even in her death she will still continue to be all of those things. I was very close to this wonderful woman. In her passing I find myself afraid that I’m going to forget the sound of her voice, her laugh, the way she smiled. But I know I never really will forget. You cannot forget a woman like her. She instilled in me a love for travel while I sat with her as a small child and as a teenager to listen to her tell me stories of her life. Today, let us all remember what an amazing life she had.
While we have joined together here today to mourn a woman who is well worth mourning, I want you all to know, she does not want us to mourn. She wants us to rejoice for her, because she is no longer suffering. She wants her family to put aside their differences and come together, as one for this event, and many others. I know this is what she wants, she told me so. An author once said “The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.” While there are many things I wish I had said or done, there are so many more that I’m glad I did for her. I’m glad she taught me how to make stroganoff, and max. I’m glad I got to stay up late and watch mysteries with her. I’m glad I gave up many days of my 16th summer to take her to dialysis, doctors appointments, grocery shopping. Most of all, I’m thankful that I knew my days with her were numbered. It gave me a chance to let her know how much I loved her, how much she meant to me. I may feel a little lost without her now, but I know I’ll overcome that.
These last few years of her life may not have been her best. But I think that is all the more reason for us to be happy right now. Though we will miss her terribly, she is no longer suffering in a hospital bed or in a dialysis center. She lives on in each and every one of us here today.
And as we lay her to rest today remember, there are no sick people in heaven.
..Then, after I read that, they played the song Lean on me,
Sometimes in our lives we all have pain
We all have sorrow
But if we are wise
We know that there's always tomorrow
Lean on me, when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long
'Til I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on
Please swallow your pride
If I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs
That you don't let show
Lean on me, when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long
'Til I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on
If there is a load you have to bear
That you can't carry
I'm right up the road
I'll share your load
If you just call me
So just call on me brother, when you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem that you'd understand
We all need somebody to lean on
Lean on me when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long
Till I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on
.. when they played that, I had some tears run down my face.. I'm really gonna miss her.. then patty's pastor spoke, then they played amazing grace on bagpipes, because she loved bagpipes. Then Patty's pastor spoke some more and then when he was finished we went outside and all got a sticker to go to Jefferson Barracks in a funeral procession. Jen and Michael and I all rode with my mom and dad. Then once we got to Jefferson Barracks we went to this little shelter type place where she was set down on a table with wheels by the pallbearers, and we said one last prayer. As we walked away, Dave handed me a rose from the bouquet on the casket. It was white, and really beautiful. Then, as we all started walking back to our cars and such, Darrell came up to me and put his hands on the side of my face and kind of squeezed my eyes like a chinese person. At first I didn't get it, then he did it again and said "Mama, Mama" and I burst into tears for a second. I don't want to let it all out I guess, so I only cried for like 30 seconds. But.. the significance of that was gramma used to make a joke and put our eyes like that and say "Mama Mama my pig tails are too tight" you know, as if they were so tight it pulled your face tighter. And sometimes she'd squeeze your face together so your lips puckered and say "Please Mr. Bus Driver open the door" It was more than likely something you had to have been there to get.. but it hit home on me. Then we left and went to the funeral home, and got all the flowers and such, then went back tot he lodge. The ladies auxilary had set up al kinds of food and such, it was nice. Grandpa was there.. and he looks really frail. Lots of other things happened.. but that's the jist of it.. I'm going to go now though.. I don't like thinking about all this that much.
lots of spelling and grammar errors in here let me tell you.
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[11 Sep 2005|10:02am] |
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Just to let those of you know who aren't on my friends list, but still drop in and read this thing, I do update this quite frequently, but I make it so that only "friends" can read it. If you would like to be added to this list, I will more than likely add you, I just don't like certain people reading this that I don't know.
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| New York..! |
[30 Aug 2005|08:53pm] |
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I'm leaving to go to New York with Michael on Friday. I'm so excited it's unreal. I don't have time to write anything else.
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[11 Aug 2005|01:21pm] |
I was reading my friends' page, and saw that max and Whitney had some cool survey/quiz things, so I took a few.
You are 93% Scorpio
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| How You Life Your Life | 
You seem to be straight forward, but you keep a lot inside.
You're laid back and chill, but sometimes you care too much about what others think.
You prefer a variety of friends and tend to change friends quickly.
Some of your past dreams have disappointed you, but you don't let it get you down. |
You are dependable, popular, and observant.
Deep and thoughtful, you are prone to moodiness.
In fact, your emotions tend to influence everything you do.
You are unique, creative, and expressive.
You don't mind waving your freak flag every once and a while.
And lucky for you, most people find your weird ways charming! |
| Your Scorpio Drinking Style |
 If anyone tells you you've had enough, you'll smirk and keep tippling until you're hog whimpering drunk, out of 100-proof spite.
You like to drink, and screw anyone who has a problem with that.
You see the sauce as something to savor in itself... and not as a personality-altering tool.
If you're depressed, you get self-loathing and seek total obliteration.
But generally, you're a fascinating drinking pal, brilliant conversationalist and dizzying flirt.
You also remember everything -- especially what everyone did when they were blitzed.
Only people you *like* should drink with you! | | Your Signature Cocktails | | Just as you can look someone in the eye and smile while secretly plotting their demise, so does the brandy-laced Scorpian Stinger's sweet taste hide a potent amount of alcohol. But you abhor tropical drinks, and you will turn up your nose if you're served a scorpian. You rule watermelon, so break a pitcher of watermelon margaritas will seduce you -- though red wine will do the trick just as well. | | Your Celebrity Drinking Buddies | | Hillary Clinton, Leonardo DiCaprio, Bill Gates, Demi Moore, Jenny McCarthy, Tara Reid, P. Diddy, and Owen Wilson. |
You May Be a Bit Borderline ... |
Your mood swings make a roller coaster look tame!
When you're up, you're a little bit crazy...
And when you're down, your whole world is crashing
Scary thing is, these moods can change by the minute! |
I'm retarded. I'll update this eventually. I still have to tell about West Virginia, and Oklahoma, and.. sterf..
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[21 Jul 2005|07:27pm] |
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I don’t understand why mom has to be upset all the time. It seems like she’s always crying, or yelling, and I don’t know what to do about it. So I don’t tell her things. I don’t tell her things that scare the hell out of me that my body is going through, because “she has enough to worry about.” If I had a dollar for every time she’s said that in the past week or two, I’d have about five dollars. I could buy some flip-flops. I know the things around here aren’t her fault. But I hate that everyone blames me for them. I mean, I know I sound like every other angst-ridden teenager, “they blame me for everything,” but people have seen it. They do. Jesse screamed at me one night and we were arguing about something, and I walked out of the room, and he seriously told Mike, “I’m sorry my sister has ruined my family and that you have to put up with it.” What the hell am I supposed to say or do about that. The only reason he says those things is because mom and patty and dad say those things. Maybe not dad so much as patty and mom, but dad does enough shit. I love my dad, as a person. I hate that when people meet him he’s this great and wonderful guy that everybody loves. I love him. But why doesn’t he care about his family? Why doesn’t he care that his children don’t have a.c. To some families, that’s like a mouth drops to floor kind of thing and they can’t believe I don’t have air conditioning. I don’t think it bothers him that much. He tells me to clean my room. Maybe I will, when I have electric, and it’s cooler. But as for now, I can’t. And I was going to. I even told Mike one day, I said you watch, I’m getting the urge to clean my room, and now my dad is going to turn into his inner jerk and tell me to do it and I’m not going to want to because his hypocrisy makes me gag. I don’t want to hear his excuses. He doesn’t have enough money. Ok, so don’t go to the lodge so much. Try to actually quit smoking or something, budget your money the right way, something. With as much money as he makes we shouldn’t live like we do, and I’m beginning to hate him for it. I can’t stand how hypocritical everyone in this family is sometimes. Not that I’m not, because by all means I’m really very hypocritical, but at least I admit it. I’m so tired. I miss hanging out with Jen and wish we could more. We talked a lot about it.. Maybe I’ll write more later..
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[19 Jul 2005|12:00am] |
Almost no matter where I go, if I have to use the bathroom, I turn on the water or a fan. I’m not totally sure why, I’m just weird. I have a giant pimple on my forehead. I hate pimples. I love to read. I’m reading there books called “EverWorld” by K.A. Applegate. Quite awesome. I don’t know how to describe them really, I just know they’re some of the best books I’ve ever read. I wish my fingernails would grow. At Jan’s fiftieth birthday party the other day, Michael tied the end of a balloon to my wrist and I’m keeping it there to see how long it will take it to fall off. I was graced with decently pretty hair (when I take care of it) and relatively clear skin, and two different colored eyes. But apparently I’m going to have to work to get a body to go along with these nice features. Which I am not doing. I am going to get a tattoo. It will be beautiful. And I want to feel beautiful when I show it to people. I need more motivation somehow. But I don’t know how to get it. I just have to do it. I have to make the decision that I no longer want to hate my stomach and my arms, and learn to love my stretch marks, they’ll be there forever. Thank you Dr. Carlos DaSilvo. I blame him for my weight gain, because of all the different medications he put me on. However, I recently got a lot of pictures developed, and you know what? I wasn’t any skinnier in those pictures. I mean, I’d gained a little weight, I think I weighed probably 150 in those pictures, the pictures of New Mexico when I went to see Dusty and Kim two weeks before I “tried to kill myself.” I wish I could go back to New Mexico, but since mom blames Dusty and Kim for my suicidal crap, that won’t happen until I’m 18. Anyway, in those pictures I’d gotten a little bigger. But the medicine really kicked in I think and made it worse. Or maybe it was just me and I don’t want to admit it, either way, I was on medications that aren’t supposed to be used within 6 weeks of each other at the same time. Why am I typing this in a journal? Because I want to remember. I want to remember who I am today, and what I was thinking. I don’t type in this journal for any reason other than that. I do it for me. I just wanted to make that statement clear. To who? I have no idea. This weekend I am going to West Virginia with Michael, his dad, and his sister. I think it will be a lot of fun. My mom and I are not doing so well, but what else is new. I’m trying to understand that she has a lot going on too, I just wish she could see I have a lot going on too. That was redundant. Oh well. I don’t know where my life is going. I don’t know how I’m going to go to college. How I’m going to get the money for my dream house. I don’t know what I’m going to do in life. I’ve wanted to be a photographer for so many years, maybe I should pursue that. I want to take classes to learn how to blow glass, but I think they’re too expensive, I don’t totally know, I’ve never taken the incentive to look that much farther into it. I’m going to be a Junior. I need to get on the ball and figure these things out. I need to get all my credits, and not fail any more classes. I need to get up off my ass and do things. I’m going to. I really want to.
Maybe tomorrow. I’m going to go play SIMS and forget about life for awhile.
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[18 Jul 2005|09:43pm] |
"Swing Life Away"
-Rise Against
Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?
Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?
Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?
I'll show you mine if you show me yours first
Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse
Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words
We live on front porches and swing life away,
We get by just fine here on minimum wage
If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand
I've been here so long, I think that it's time to move
The winter's so cold, summer's over too soon
Let's pack our bags and settle down where palm trees grow
I've got some friends, some that I hardly know
But we've had some times, I wouldn't trade for the world
We chase these days down with talks of the places that we will go
We live on front porches and swing life away,
We get by just fine here on minimum wage
If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand....until you hold my hand
I'll show you mine if you show me yours first
Let's compare scars, I'll tell you whose is worse
Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words
We live on front porches and swing life away,
We get by just fine here on minimum wage
If love is a labor I'll slave till the end,
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand
Swing life away [x4]
I heard this song earlier today, I really liked it a lot, I'm not totally sure why. I think I should look into their other songs and see if I like them.. maybe later when I have more time..ha.. more time..
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| Dream House |
[18 Jul 2005|09:36pm] |
July 17, 2005 1:35 a.m.
You walk in to a semi-small area, with a closet with mirror doors to your right, full of winter coats, gloves, scarves, etc. To the left is a small place to put your shoes you wear everyday so you can slip them off when you walk in, and on just before you leave. You walk a little way, just a few feet, and to your left is a living room. Intact with big comfy couches and chairs, and shelves on the walls with various items. A large fish tank full of gorgeous fish, or maybe a few small fish tanks full of them. To your right a few feet farther is a dining room. A beautiful table, beautiful chairs. A large crystal chandelier over the table. Curio cabinets along the walls with glasses and china. Where we have dinner on special occasions, and dinners together once a week. By ‘we,’ I don’t know what I mean exactly. A little past that is a kitchen, with a lot of cabinets on the walls, and below the counters. The theme is one from the past. The refrigerator has a big door the actual fridge part, and a smaller door on the bottom to the freezer part, that you can open on the bottom with a little puch of your foot. A small breakfast table in front of a big window that looks out past a porch that wraps around the first floor, to an in ground pool, not too big, but with a diving board and a slide. Farther past that you see a small pond with a giant Weeping Willow tree beside it, perfect for romantic picnics, and games of make believe. Off the kitchen, a bathroom, with yellow rubber ducks everywhere. Upstairs, a master bedroom with maybe a medieval theme, with an overly large dog bed in the corner of the room, for an Irish Wolfhound, a walk in closet full of clothes, and a king-sized bed with bunches of pillows. In the bathroom are candle sconces perfect for late nights in the Jacuzzi tub his and hers matching sinks, and a shower. Several other rooms. One with a computer, and bookshelves full of books along the walls. Another with an extra bed for guests, with a closet and all. I’m not sure of the theme. More bedrooms for all my children. How many, I’m not sure, maybe two or three. A bathroom upstairs, this time the theme is fish. In a hallway somewhere upstairs on the ceiling is a place where you can pull down stairs to go in the attic. Full of things I can’t make myself get rid of. On the first floors there’s a door to stairs that lead to the basement somewhere. You can’t see the basement from the front of the house, but the house is built on a hill so that there is still a door from the basement to outside. There’s a decent sized room for animals to sleep, be it cats, dogs, racoons, skunks (with their stink glands cut out, they’re amazingly cute animals), whatever. There’s a washer and dryer off in a little room somewhere. A pool table. A foosball table. A ping pong table. An air hockey table. Give or take a few of those. Once again, comfy couches and chairs, a small bar off to the side somewhere, with cabinets that lock. Probably a small fridge. That’s all I can think of for the moment..
I’m aware this isn’t very realistic, and would cost a lot of money. Things don’t have to be realistic when you’re dreaming. I also have more I’ll probably add or something. But not right now.
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[18 Jul 2005|12:00am] |
July 18, 2005 12 a.m.
Almost no matter where I go, if I have to use the bathroom, I turn on the water or a fan. I’m not totally sure why, I’m just weird. I have a giant pimple on my forehead. I hate pimples. I love to read. I’m reading there books called “EverWorld” by K.A. Applegate. Quite awesome. I don’t know how to describe them really, I just know they’re some of the best books I’ve ever read. I wish my fingernails would grow. At Jan’s fiftieth birthday party the other day, Michael tied the end of a balloon to my wrist and I’m keeping it there to see how long it will take it to fall off. I was graced with decently pretty hair (when I take care of it) and relatively clear skin, and two different colored eyes. But apparently I’m going to have to work to get a body to go along with these nice features. Which I am not doing. I am going to get a tattoo. It will be beautiful. And I want to feel beautiful when I show it to people. I need more motivation somehow. But I don’t know how to get it. I just have to do it. I have to make the decision that I no longer want to hate my stomach and my arms, and learn to love my stretch marks, they’ll be there forever. Thank you Dr. Carlos DaSilvo. I blame him for my weight gain, because of all the different medications he put me on. However, I recently got a lot of pictures developed, and you know what? I wasn’t any skinnier in those pictures. I mean, I’d gained a little weight, I think I weighed probably 150 in those pictures, the pictures of New Mexico when I went to see Dusty and Kim two weeks before I “tried to kill myself.” I wish I could go back to New Mexico, but since mom blames Dusty and Kim for my suicidal crap, that won’t happen until I’m 18. Anyway, in those pictures I’d gotten a little bigger. But the medicine really kicked in I think and made it worse. Or maybe it was just me and I don’t want to admit it, either way, I was on medications that aren’t supposed to be used within 6 weeks of each other at the same time. Why am I typing this in a journal? Because I want to remember. I want to remember who I am today, and what I was thinking. I don’t type in this journal for any reason other than that. I do it for me. I just wanted to make that statement clear. To who? I have no idea. This weekend I am going to West Virginia with Michael, his dad, and his sister. I think it will be a lot of fun. My mom and I are not doing so well, but what else is new. I’m trying to understand that she has a lot going on too, I just wish she could see I have a lot going on too. That was redundant. Oh well. I don’t know where my life is going. I don’t know how I’m going to go to college. How I’m going to get the money for my dream house. I don’t know what I’m going to do in life. I’ve wanted to be a photographer for so many years, maybe I should pursue that. I want to take classes to learn how to blow glass, but I think they’re too expensive, I don’t totally know, I’ve never taken the incentive to look that much farther into it. I’m going to be a Junior. I need to get on the ball and figure these things out. I need to get all my credits, and not fail any more classes. I need to get up off my ass and do things. I’m going to. I really want to.
Maybe tomorrow. I’m going to go play SIMS and forget about life for awhile.
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[17 Jul 2005|11:33pm] |
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Ok. I’m going to try and make this as short as possible. I was going to write a letter to my dad telling him my feelings, but I’m not really mad enough to. I would, but I think Michael is mad that I’m even writing him at all. Today was Jan’s 50th birthday party. I love that woman so much. She’s so sweet. It went ok. When we first got there Michael got mad and went outside. That sucked. Bad. I don’t know, things happened in between there. But when we were leaving, I was upset because my dad was being an asshole, and mom was being her usual drunken self, so I was already almost in tears, and as if I wasn’t worried enough about them I had to try really hard not to say anything to make Michael mad at me, or let anyone know (besides Michael, who I’m pretty sure knew I was pretty upset) that I was really upset. So, I go to give Jan a hug goodbye. She hugs me, and she’s shaking and she says, “I wish you were mine Conni, God how I wish you were mine.” I’m pretty sure Jan and Denny can’t have kids, which is why they never have. Denny came up right after that and Jan said “Denny, don’t you wish she could be ours?” And Denny, jokingly said no way she’s too much trouble. Then he said, you know I’m justy kidding kid, we’d love to have you, we both think of you as a daughter anyway. All this reminded me of the night Laura held me in her arms and said that she wishes I were her daughter, and that if my mom didn’t want me, she’d always think of me as her daughter. Or the many times Brian’s mom has said “Conni you’re parents just don’t’ know what they’re missing.” I don’t understand why everyone’s parents can say those sort of things to me except my own. I wish they knew what they were missing out on. I can’t wait for the day that my mom calls me and tells me that she’s sorry she wasn’t there for me when I was growing up, I don’t think my dad ever will, but mom may. If she ever gets out of her drunken stupor. I just wish they could wake up. I really wish they would. I also, while trying to fight tears at the lodge, decided that I’m becoming too emotional, and complaining to Michael too much about my life. I’m not going to do this anymore. Fuck crying, it doesn’t help, and neither does bitching. I’m just going to puch it back inside my head and forget about it. Which is no better than my father. But I don’t care. I’m kind of losing myself inside myself again. I think only I will really know what that means. But I am. I don’t keep this journal for anyone but myself, so that I can look back and remember things, so I don’t forget. I don’t want to forget. I feel like Elle Weisel, “I write so people remember” or whatever he said, something similar. This was a nice little vent I suppose, negative though it was. Oh well. I’m finished.
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[13 Jul 2005|11:20pm] |
I typed this the 13th but didn't have a chance to put it in here yet..
Yesterday. Ahh yesterday was an eventful day to say the very least. Michael and I woke up around 10, and were going to go to his house and get some clothes and things. However, my mother decided she needed to go on a cigarette run, so we didn't have time. She got back around 10:45 and then Michael and I went to grammas to pick her up, and went to dialysis, we went in gordmans and tjmaxx and looked at clothes and such, then we went in petco and looked at the animals, then we decided to run back to his house before we go to pick up gramma. We get there, everything is normal, we go to getout of the car.. one problem. Michael is stuck. His seat belt won't unbutton. Well, that's ok, right? He can just lower the seat back and squeeze out, right? No. In the midst of all the confusion, the seat belt locks up and won't come out anymore to give him any extra room. We call my dad.
Me: Dad? We kind of have a funny problem..
Dad (in annoyed voice): What?
Me: Michaels seat belt is stuck..
Dad (in same voice): Did you push the button?
Me: Well yes I pushed the damn button.
Dad: Well then I don't know what to tell you, how am I supposed to help?
(little men scream obscenities in Conni's head)
Me: Gee, thanks, bye.
..click..
Ok, ok, don't panic, we can do this. Ok, maybe not, what does one do when the seat belt just won't come undone. A few minutes go by. We call my father again, who is extremely frustrated and tells us to just come home to his house. So, we leave, not getting anything we need from Michaels house. We go to my house. Dad tries to figure out what is wrong, and he can't. So, he calls the dealership. They're really confused seeing as how this has never happened before, and they tell us to bring the car in. So, the only un-licensed driver in the house, drives up Lindbergh by herself for the first time. We find it, even through my nervousness because 'm scared to death I"m going to get caught without a license for some reason, though I'm not sure why I am now and wasn't before. Not that I know when now and before were. Right, anyway. So, I pull into the parking lot to the side of the garage looking area which is where I am supoosed to be going, and I walk inside and no one really notices I'm there at first until finally a dirty mechanic looking guy walks up and asks me if I need any help, so, I say, "Uhm, my dad just called, my boyfriend is stuck in my car, his seat belt won't come undone." The man looks at me with utter amazement and amusement but has NO idea what to do with me, until another man walks up and says, you're the one with the malfunctioning seatbelt? *little men inside my head breathe sigh of relief* I say, yes, and he tells me to pull my car in one of the garages, so, I do this, and like 6 mechanic dudes come over to look at Mike, who is entrapped in his seatbelt. Meanwhile, we're all trying to laugh, I'm pretty sure Mike was horribly embarrassed, and the spectacle kind of stops and they get Michael out, we sit there awhile until they finally tell me they don't have the part to fix it and ask if I'm 21. I say no, and pray to a God I don't believe in they don't ask for my license. They don't. They wanted me to rent a car to drive home because they want to keep the car in overnight.. well, I can't do that, I'm late picking up gramma and such, and so my dad talks to them and says that I need to bring the car home now, so I do ra ra ra and such..
________________________
It's now the 17th and the seat belt hasn't been replaced.
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| Creepy Tattoos and pink and grey tiled bathrooms |
[05 Jul 2005|10:37pm] |
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mood |
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 bouncy |
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I was telling Mike about this dream that I had the other night where, in short, I went to get my tattoo and when I got there I forgot what I wanted, so I ended up getting this butterfly on my cheek, but the girl who was giving it to me didn't finish it all the way, and I was supposed to come back the next day, so at some point between the time I left and the time I went back, I remembered I didn't want a butterfly on my cheek, that I wanted a monkey swinging from a bent palm tree on my stomach/hip, and was terribly upset. When I went back the next day and told the woman I didn't want it and asked if she could fix it, she said no I think or something, but we ended up in my bathroom on the floor and she put circles around the butterfly and colored them in, all in all making it much much more colorful and noticeable, and then took a razor, like a straight razor kind of thing, and put an asterik star through it so that it scarred that way. Well, I told Mike about it, and then I later told his mom about it and she was like, Conni that's kind of creepy, not those exact words, but I don't remember what she said. And well, I guess it is kind of creepy to dream of someone cutting up your face. But I don't realize this because in comparison to all the other dreams I have about people mutilating my body in different ways, that's absolutely nothing. And then I wonder if I should even mention anything like that in here because I know people will read it, and a part of me wants people to know about these freakish nightmares, maybe so that someone can explain them, or just so that I could tell someone about them, but then, these are really creepy scary kind of things, like, Stephen King/Carrie kind of shit, and I don't want people to think I'm some sort of psycho person, because, I'm not, it's just my dreams kind of stuff. Oh, and then thinking about the tattoo, is this some sort of sign I shouldn't get my tattoo, that I'll regret it? I'm going to think more about the subject and just analyze my reasons a little more.
Another thought: When I get older, I want a bathroom like my Grandma Wilma's, she has tile all the way around the bottom half of the bathroom, and then in the shower it's all tile, and then the ceiling is tile in the shower, to prevent water spots. Seeing as how in my house we have a lot of water spots, I've envied her shower since I was probably 6. I just thought about it earlier while I was in the shower and decided to post it in here so I would remember it.
Ok, I don't feel like typing anymore, I'm done.
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[01 Jul 2005|02:14pm] |
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mood |
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 distressed |
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All I want to do is talk to them. Just one time I want to talk to my parents and have a decent conversation, without yelling, without crying, without spitting venom. I know that when my mom was younger, that she always wanted to be able to talk to her daughter when she had one. I get so scared sometimes that I’m going to end up like her. So scared that I don’t want to have kids. I say ‘end up like her’ but she’s not so bad really, she just needs someone to talk to, and it’s not her fault a lot of the things that happen. She doesn’t really make any bad situation better because she always gets too upset, but I don’t know. I play the SIMS at Mike’s house a lot when I’m there and I make the mom get up every morning way before everyone else does and cook breakfast for everyone and then they get up and everyone sits down and eats together. I hope I do that. I hope that I have a clean house. I hope I don’t just sit around and do nothing all the time and then bitch because nothing gets done. I called my dad when I got back from Jen’s this morning, because the car wasn’t here, and I didn’t know why, and he took it to work because the jeep broke down. I called him back a few minutes later because I remembered that it’s supposed to get new tires and stuff today, and he got bitchy with me and told me I didn’t need to worry about it and hung up on me. Asshole. I got really mad, and I wrote him a letter, as follows:
Dad-
I’m writing you a letter because I think it’s a healthy form of communication and this way when I try and talk to you you can’t yell at me or walk away, and I get what I want to say said without crying or becoming over emotional like all women in this family, and a lot of women in general usually do.
I know I call you too much while you’re at work, and for that I apologize, I just sometimes get lost and confused and don’t know what to do and it just seems like what I’m supposed to do, though a lot of the times it seems that it makes it worse by calling you than just dealing with it on my own.
You said that I don’t need to worry about when the car is going to get fixed. (See, this is the point in person where I would probably yell at scream something like ‘how dare you’ kind of thing, but this is a letter and I’m going to try and make it sound like I’m as calm as possible.) This upsets me greatly because, I do need to worry about when the car is going to get fixed. I need to get my license. I don’t think it’s fair to ask Mike’s parents off of work again to do so. I do need to worry about when it’s going to get fixed, because I, in my opinion more than anyone else right now, need it to be fixed. Please do not tell me not to worry about things because ‘they’re not my responsibility,’ or whatever else reason you want to use. I’m going to worry about things, and it’s too late for you to tell me not to.
I filled out an application for Robert E. Lee’s. As a busser. I will make $4.15 an hour, plus tips. The servers will tip me, and it’s about 3% or their overall sales. Which means, if their overall sales are $1,000, which isn’t all that rare, I will get 30 dollars from that server, and every night there are at least 4 servers. If I were working a regular job, at about let’s say $6 dollars an hour, and worked for 5 hours, I would only get 30 dollars. However, if I work a five hour night at $4.15 an hour, make at least 30 dollars in tips from the servers, that’s $50.75. Even if their overall sales are only 500, that’s still $15 and more than I would make at any other job that I can find. Unless you have a better idea. It’s really hard to find a decent job when you’re a teenager, and I think this sounds like a decent job. I also realize that being a waitress is really hard to do. I, however, am not going to be a waitress. I’ll just be bussing tables. I’ve really thought this out. Jen works from 5 until close, which is usually around 9:30-10:00 or so. She can take me most of the time, and the times she can’t, I could probably drive myself since it will be at night. I figured I could work Monday, Tuesdays, and maybe Wednesday nights, and every other Saturday, because obviously you get paid a lot more on Saturdays. I’ve already filled out an application, and Jen is taking it in tonight. I need someone to set up a savings account for me, and I figured I would ask Gramma Wilma about it, and all of this today. I plan on using as little money as possible for myself, I want to save it, for whatever reason I may need it, be it a car, college, whatever.
In conclusion, I don’t know how finished I am with this, but I’m tired so I’m going to go back to sleep before I have to take gramma.
Love Always,
Conni
Please write back or talk to me about this? If you just click save after you write me back and ex out, it will save.
I wrote it in Microsoft Word and left it up on the computer. But I don’t think he read it. I woke up to mom and dad talking, and I don’t know what exactly they were talking about but dad said something about me spending too much time away from home. Well what the hell. What about him? As soon as he gets any kind of chance to leave he does. I just wanna say fuck him and scream and yell. I really want to scream and yell about something. I wanna get mad and throw things and hit things. But I can’t, and I won’t. I don’t know what to do anymore. I just want to give up. I’m so upset right now it’s unreal. Sometimes I worry that I spend too much time with Mike. He tries to take care of me, and when I'm upset he always tries to make me feel better, but I just kind of wish he'd go away. I worry that I’ve let Mike see too much. Too much of me. Like I shouldn't tell him the things I do, and let him get too close. Then when mom was getting ready to leave I asked if I could go with her and she said that Jesse was going, so I got mad because she had said a few minutes ago that it was pointless for two people to go. I don’t know what all else was said but I told her, straight up, “I just wanted to talk to you about some stuff that’s pretty important.” Big mistake. She then went off on a tangent about how she had enough to worry about and didn’t need my trivialities. So I said forget it. I know my mom didn’t want to be like this. I wish there was someway to remind her of that. But there isn’t really. I just want to talk to them. I’m taking this job too, I have to if I don’t want to end up like them. I’m so upset right now I don’t know what to do with myself. I think I’m gonna suck it up for now and put on a happy face and maybe make a few phone calls to people I haven’t talked to this summer though, I’ll be fine.
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| updates.. it's been awhile.. |
[29 Jun 2005|02:49am] |
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mood |
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 *shrugs* |
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Please excuse me while I get more grapes…*savors grapes* I don’t know why but last week sometime Mike’s mom offered me some grapes and ever since then I can’t stop eating them. They’re so damned good. And they’re only 40 calories for a cup and a half, and that’s not bad at all. Yea, ha, calories, totally not sticking to this whole diet thing. You know I hope that if anyone I don’t know reads this or something that they don’t think that I’m one of those stupid girls who goes on diets when she doesn’t need to or anything. I am technically, for my height, overweight, and I’m not satisfied with the way I look and would like to feel better about myself. I’m not starving myself by any means, I haven’t done that since 7th grade, and then I did it a lot. I think in 7th grade I lived with Gramma Thomas and every morning I would get up and go to school, then at lunch me and Brent and Kayla and Aron sat together and I would eat Pizza Pringles and nacho cheese, (as the year progressed I kept getting horrible stomach cramps after I ate the Pringles, it’s how I found out I was allergic to them, and I switched to Doritos and cheese), but not all the time because a lot of the time I didn‘t have money, so I usually just ate, when I got home and then I would have 2 turkey sandwiches, and that was usually it, I didn’t eat mom’s dinners that much, but then again, mom didn’t make them much that year. Gosh that was a horrible year at home. I didn’t miss ANY school at all that year because I hated being home so much, so I went to school on weekdays, and almost always did something with Kayla on weekends, so I tried to stay away from home as much as possible. That was the year I got Skeeter too.. damn I miss that stinkin’ cat.. Anyway, back to the ‘diet’ thing, I just want to justify that I’m trying to lose weight in a healthy manner, even if I don’t always stick to it.
I believe my last entry was on my way to get my license. Well, I’ll be straightforward. I failed. The lady (who was kind of fat but really ugly) took me through a subdivision, and she told me to park on a hill, which I did, and I did fine. Then, when I was pulling out, there was this FedEx truck coming up behind me, and I had plenty of room so I pulled out. She then told me that he had the right-of-way in that situation. Then we went back to the actual office place and I parked the car and she said, I’m sorry but you failed, it’s an automatic failing when you pull out in front of someone like that. I was very calm and thanked her and went back to my dad (who did come along) and Beth (Mike’s mom) and Jesse and Mike and told them that I failed. Which was absolutely horrendous because Beth took off work and everything to take me and just.. Rargh.. I’ve been trying not to think about it because I get so mad at myself for it. But, in my defense, the fedex truck didn’t come anywhere near me and I had plenty of time to pull out before I would get in his way. I don’t blame the lady who took me on it, you know, I did do something wrong, but it frustrates me because I’m a really good driver, I drive ALL the time because of taking gramma to dialysis and stuff, and I failed my test on a technicality that could be argued with, while kids like Jake O’Dell can get their license and drive haphazardly and then almost kill themselves in a wreck. I don’t know. I did something wrong I know, but I’m still entitled to be mad about it and bitch about the system.
Also, that very same day, I became an aunt to a beautiful baby girl named Madalyn Denise. I’ll post a picture later if I figure out how.
I didn’t end up going shopping with Whitney and Amanda, which my mom was super pissed about, and my brother probably will be later when he realizes I wasn’t there when Madalyn was born, he’s kind of too busy to really think too hard on it right now. But I did stay here (I’m at Mike’s ) with Mike and Andy and Sean Shaw and they played video games a little, I played SIMS, we all played Sorry and Monopoly, all in all we had a pretty good time.
Mom and dad came home on Sunday, but then left again Monday at 6 because dad got called in to Kansas City, so mom went with him since tomorrow (today) is her birthday. I was going to clean the living room for her but.. you know what? It’s too freaking hot to do anything in that house because there’s no air conditioning and it’s hotter in the house than it is outside. Which is another reason I’m here, Patty is supposedly sick and has to sleep in the living room at grammas (because it’s cooler than her room) and Jesse is sleeping on the chair. So, Mike and I can’t sleep up there and last night we slept at my house and woke up sweating from the heat and it was just gross feeling. So we came back here and got on the computer, well, I got on the main computer and he got on his brothers laptop, and shortly here we’re going to be going to sleep I think. Speaking of computers and such, my aol isn’t working so I have to use Mike’s name to get online and right now only my yahoo name is all I’m using..
Tomorrow I’m going to Six Flags with Jen. And Andy. And her whole family. I’m a little nervous. Well, very nervous. But I’ll live. I’m glad we’re going to be spending time together again. Last night I called her and she was with some other girl, and I asked who she was with and she said something to the affect of, “well since my little sister seemingly never calls me back and never hangs out with me anymore I had to find someone else” Almost exactly I think, but she was just kidding. But it still hurt. A lot. A whole lot. And then before we got off the phone she said “I’m really glad you called me, I was starting to give up on you” Which hit a sore spot. So when I got of the phone I cried because I couldn’t believe she said those things, even if she was joking and about how much I missed her and missed hanging out with her and such and that I felt really bad for always forgetting to call her back, so I got up and called her while I was crying, to remind her that I loved her and tell her that I was sorry for never calling her back and that I missed her and she was like I miss you too hunni, what brought all this on? So I choked through tears that she said she gave up on me, and then she started crying and said she was just kidding, she would never give up on me, and she’s sorry she said that and didn’t mean it at all. We got off the phone, both of us still crying but we both felt a lot better. I don’t know. I’ve had a lot of people ‘give up on me’ and she has too, we’ve always had the kind of relationship that we know that no matter what happens we’ll always be there in the end for each other, but when she said that.. I don’ know.. Like I said, sore spot. But we’re going to hang out tomorrow night after I go to the summer school play because it seems like they don’t have very much support, and I want to see it anyway. And then the next day (Thursday) we’re going to 6 flags with her and her family. And then I think I may be staying the night at her house again Friday night. Oh, and Thursday I’m going to go to work with her at her daycare.
Well, I think we’re going to go to bed now, and god knows this entry is way more than long enough, so good night, or good morning..
ps.. is it possible to upload a picture on here?
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| driver license/raising your parents/I'm going to be an aunt |
[23 Jun 2005|10:11am] |
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mood |
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annoyed/anxious |
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So, it's 10 in the morning, I got up around 9. I'm going to take my license test today. Which is ironic because I've been driving without one since I turned 15. I'm really nervous. And I don't know what I'll do if I don't pass. I'm going to try and make my dad go with me too, Mike's mom is taking me though. I just practiced parallel parking and I didn't do all too great but, I don't know. I'm still scared shitless. I'm going to be an aunt. Around noon. Madison is her name, I don't know her middle name yet. Mom and dad are fighting, even when they're hundreds of miles apart, because mom has no money to spend, and dad says she spent it all is why. Well, he did too. I want money to go shopping tomorrow, but will I get it? I sincerely doubt it. And that's annoying. I hate going shopping without money. I wish I could shoot my parents sometimes. Maybe I should lock them in a room together and just leave them there until they decide to get a long, no, a cold room, so they'll have to go to each other for warmth. Like animals, because that's the way they're acting. Actually, I think animals would be a little more considerate to each other. It's so annoying that I'm having to raise my parents instead of the other way around. I mean, things like that usually happen when the parents are really young when they have a child, now, my mom was 17 when she had her first, but I'm her 3rd, and she was 31 when she had me and I was dad's first, but he was 27 when he had me. There's no excuse except that they refuse to grow up. I hate bitching like this because my mom is a wonderful person, and so is my dad.. I don't know.. I'm just frustrated and I think I'm going to go take a shower maybe? I still want to reread the drivers book (I've already read it like 3 times this morning, but I always get nervous on tests like these and fuck it up) Well..here goes nothing..
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heregoesnothin's journal